


Painting the Roses Red

by InkspillsNotebook



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged Up, Gon and Killua make a camio sorta, Gore, Kurapika is still busy but you know, Lost of coughing up blood, M/M, Mutual Pining, but I attempt to make it tasteful, hanahaki disease au, leorio is a doctor, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkspillsNotebook/pseuds/InkspillsNotebook
Summary: "Not bad for his last words, if he said so himself."A Leopika Hanahaki Disease AU





	Painting the Roses Red

Yet another busy day, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

 

He had finished another surgery earlier that day, and had decided to spend his time down in the clinic to check on progress and how some of the patients were doing. Many of the children had been happy to see him. _The nice doctor that made the funny faces_ , as they called him. It had been an afternoon well spent, one that really showed his true character.

 

He had become a doctor to save the lives of children after all.

 

Leorio put yet another file away, adjusting his glasses as he returned everything to its proper place. He wanted the office to be organized, neat, and clean. It made everything easier that way. Nodding to himself, he checked the time on his watch. Still a bit early, he could afford a few moments to-

 

A familiar itch clawed its way up his throat. Grunting in a pointless attempt to clear it, he fished out his black handkerchief. It was an item that many had recently commented on how stylish it was, never knowing it’s true purpose.

 

The darker the fabric, the easier it was to conceal the blood.

 

Leorio coughed, his free hand gripping the edge of his desk to help steady himself while his lungs heaved. Leorio had been through much in his short life, yet this was most likely the cruelest of pains. He had practiced, trained himself to quiet the sounds of his fits when the botanical parasite had first taken root.

 

Pulling his hand from his lips, he quickly folded the cloth over the thick blood splattered Gardenia petals. A blinding contrast against the black fabric. He supposed, as much as he tried to hide it, there was something oddly beautiful in the way the white petals and the red specks of blood reminded Leorio of his affections eyes.

 

He really was a sap, wasn’t he?

 

Leorio was at least grateful that his office came with a small bathroom attached. The perks of having worked so hard for him to make it to where he was now. Collecting himself, he walked into the small room and began his typical cleanup routine. He disposed of the flowers in a small waste disposal bag that was typically found in the hospitals supply closets. He lightly rinsed off the thicker blood clots from the black fabric before laying it off to the side to dry. Looking into the small mirror, he frowned.

 

Leorio had always looked far older than he was, having only really begun to look his true age in his late twenties. Being in his early thirties now, he worried that he was looking as old as he felt. He had looked better, a few missed days of shaving had a small beard attempting to grow, covering the slightly sunken in cheeks that he knew lingered beneath the shadow. There were heavy bags under his eyes, no longer a badge of honor from his studies, but a silent warning of his inability to get a peaceful night’s sleep without dreaming and awaking to more coughing. Running his damp fingers through his hair, Leorio reached into the drawer by the sink and pulled out a small travel toothbrush and a tube of mint paste.

 

He redid his estimated calculations as he brushed his teeth, no longer feeling the defiant nature that had been ever present when this had all began. He told himself that he wouldn’t die, that even _he_ wasn’t so stupid to be offed by a flower because he couldn’t tell someone that he loved them.

 

Yet, here he was.

 

He could recall, taking a moment to shift the bristles from the right side of his mouth to the left, possibly a handful of times when he had attempted to confess. None of them had gone well, he being a nervous wreck and the other well . . . just behaving as he always had. Leorio couldn’t blame him for that. It was clear that Leorio was shooting far out of his league, so friendship was all he would be able to receive.

 

So, he kept Kurapika in the dark and suffered in silence.

 

Spitting in the sink, Leorio pulled himself together. His chest felt heavy, a pressure building up over time that normally Leorio was able to ignore. There was something off about today, and he had a sinking suspicion he knew why.

 

Leaving the bathroom, Leorio made a quick stop at his desk to retrieve a fresh handkerchief from his stock. Recently, his attacks had happened so frequently that he was now going through about ten handkerchiefs a day at the hospital alone. He was getting very tired of seeing the sight of blood. Taking another glance at his watch, he squared his shoulders and pulled on the signature white coat that he had strived for. He paused in the doorway, his eyes lingering on his office for a brief moment. He had done well for himself, became the thing he had always dreamed, and had accomplished a lot of good for many people. This office held memories of his triumphs and his failures.

 

Leorio turned off the light and closed the door.

 

Smile on his face, he made his rounds. He took the time to chat with anyone and everyone he saw be they staff, patient, or visitor. For the staff members he would praise their hard work, ask if there was anything to assist with, or even just a simple greeting if they were in a hurry. Leorio took care with his patients, discussing future treatment plans, reassuring them that all would be well, and guaranteeing that they would have the best treatment while they were here. The visitors were the ones he spent the most time with. Those that had loved ones or friends in rooms, the weight of just being in a hospital environment crushing their spirits. So, Leorio found it best to brighten their day a bit, calmly telling them that he and the other staff members were doing everything they could.

 

He was good at his job, and he did it well.

 

By the time he had completed his rounds, the night shift had come. Leorio spent a bit longer, lingering enough to speak with staff members that he only saw on occasion, but were important never the less. He wanted to do this right.

 

“Sir?” one of the younger nurses asked him by the doors, a young man just out of school.

 

“Yeah?” Leorio turned, a brow raised wondering why the kid looked so hesitant.

 

“You seem a bit tense,” the boy began, “I hope you have a pleasant evening. Sleep well,” The smile the boy sent his way was kind, but his eyes were knowing. Leorio felt his smile slip, just for a moment, into a genuine look of gratitude.

 

“Thanks . . . I plan to,” Leorio spoke over his shoulder, giving a wave as he left the hospital to head for his car. Taking yet another glance at his watch, he figured he should get the calls finished before he got home. How had the day passed by so quickly?

 

Time flies as they say.

 

Leorio unlocked his car and started it up, letting it idle for a moment as he dialed a familiar number connecting it to his earpiece. No sense holding a phone while he was driving home. As it was ringing, Leorio pulled out of the parking lot and began his commute home.

 

“Leorio!” Gon’s cheerful voice sang out in his ear. He would treasure it.

 

“Gon! How are you?” Leorio answered back just as enthusiastically. 

 

“Great! Here let me put you on speaker,” there was a moment of pause. “Killua, come here! Leorio’s calling!’

 

“Hah?!” Leorio could hear Killua’s voice from a small distance away. Good, he would be able to speak with both of them. “What? Miss us, old man?” Killua’s teasing tone was much closer to the phone now.

 

“Brat, can’t I just call to say hello?” Leorio snapped back in a lighthearted nature.

 

“Leorio, when will we get to see you?” Gon asked.

 

“Hey, hey that isn’t on me! I’m the only one out of all of us that has a permanent place to live,” Leorio took a moment to joke, but his smile faltered for a moment.

 

“Not our fault we’re still young enough to have fun,” Killua laughed.

 

“You two will never change, huh?” Leorio chuckled, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

 

“Nope,” the two responded together, instantly chuckling. To Leorio, it was like the two boys were twelve years old again, unlike the young men in their twenties they had grown to be. He could picture them, Gon with his big eyes and bright smile and Killua with a smirk in place but a hidden kindness to his eyes.

 

“Good, I hope you never do. I won’t keep you very long, just haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to call,” Leorio shrugged, knowing that they couldn’t see him. He turned onto an exit ramp leaving the city and beginning to get closer to home. “You’ll . . . probably be seeing me soon.”

 

“Really?!” Gon yelled excitedly. Leorio could feel his eyes begin to sting and his nose threatened to clog.

 

“Yeah,” Leorio heard himself say. He listened to Gon cheer, bright and happy, as he should be.

 

“Leorio,” Killua began, something in his tone letting Leorio know that he _knew_ something was going on. “Are you . . .” Killua sighed, a heavy weighted sound. An internal argument, no doubt. “Never mind. We’ll see you soon.” Good, if Killua knew then he would be able to be there for Gon. Leorio was asking a lot from the former assassin turned hunter, but he could trust Killua to take care of Gon. Leorio had been Gon’s best man at their wedding after all.

 

“Take care of yourselves, I mean it,” Leorio scolded, for old times sake.

 

“We will!” Gon laughed. It really had been a bit since the last time he’d called them.

 

“Rest well, Leorio,” Killua’s voice was low. Leorio could hear the small, kind smile he was giving. He made a sound of affirmation, not trusting his own voice to respond in kind. He would either give something away, or even worse, he would cough. They ended the call with Leorio taking a deep breath through his nose to fight off his tears. Gon and Killua really were quite the pair, and Leorio couldn’t be prouder to call himself their friend, hell . . .

 

Their _family._

 

He once again had to fish out his handkerchief from his pocket, hacking loudly into the material while he eased off the gas. He coasted in the slow lane, flipping his blinkers on and pulling over into the shoulder when he could no longer keep his eyes open from the pain. He could feel that cursed weight getting heavier, the promise of bursting an imminent ending. There were no longer petals, but small flower buds when he pulled away, the small pool of blood a concern.

 

He was running out of time.

 

He coughed again, spitting into the cloth and trying to ease his breathing. He just needed to get home, that was all. Once he was there he could get comfortable and just wait for the end. He thought of the note he’d left in his desk.

 

Finally, after what seemed an eternity had passed, he could breathe again. The weight hadn’t subsided, but Leorio knew he would be able to finish his commute without any more trouble. Returning to the road, he made his final call. His fingers gripped the steering until his knuckles were white, the faint rings echoing in the silence of his drive.

 

“Leorio,” the soothing tone washed over him. He instantly eased his grip, his shoulders slumping in a relaxed posture.

 

“Kurapika,” he greeted, rolling his eyes from how calm his voice sounded now.

 

“You’ve put me at a disadvantage. I was just about to call you,” Kurapika confessed. “Must be fate.” The chuckle that came from the other had Leorio smiling, the fond look reflecting in the rear-view mirror.

 

“Yeah, maybe. What did you want to talk about? Wouldn’t wanna keep such an important guy away from his work too long,” Leorio chuckled.

 

“I feel that is my line,” Kurapika sounded good, happy even. That was enough for Leorio. “I wanted to call and ask if you were free tonight. I’m in town and thought it would be nice to catch up.”

 

Leorio paled. That would be wonderful, the greatest gift he could ask for, but he knew he had to decline. He was only a few moments away from his home, and he had a countdown. It would be best to let Kurapika find out later, after it was over.

 

“Leorio?” he must have been quiet for too long. Kurapika’s tone was hesitant, probably worried he’d overstepped, or something equally stupid.

 

“I’m still here,” he muttered, turning off his car while he sat in his driveway. “Maybe another night. I’m feeling a bit rundown from the hospital today. How long are you in town?”

 

“Oh . . . a few days,” Kurapika’s tone was odd. He sounded startled and possibly a bit flustered? Leorio couldn’t recall the last time he had declined an offer to spend time with the other, so maybe that was it?

 

“Good,” Leorio shut his car door, locking it before moving to his front door. “You’ll see me soon.”

 

“Yes,” Kurapika sighed, something strained and still slightly off. “I suppose I will very soon.”

 

“That’s the spirit,” Leorio chuckled, opening his front door and closing it with the heel of his foot. He paused, seeing many of the lights on. He had been preoccupied with the phone call that he hadn’t noticed it when he had approached the house. “I’ve gotta call you back, I think someone broke into my house,” Leorio kept his voice down. He heard Kurapika sigh again before he spoke.

 

“No,” his voice echoed, footsteps suddenly coming from the living room. “I can assure you I used the key.” Kurapika appeared in the archway of the living room, leaning against it with a shy smile.

 

Well . . . _shit._

 

Leorio had thought of many situations for how this night was going to go. He had toyed around with the idea of drinking himself to sleep, passing in the night as the flower bloomed. He talked himself out of it, and decided that he wanted to dig out some of the old photo albums and look through them until his time came. He had not been expecting this.

 

“I suppose it was presumptuous of me to come here before telling you,” Kurapika began. “I thought that it would be . . . nice, to surprise you that is. I hadn’t taken into account that you may have been tired or didn’t want to-“

 

“Kurapika,” Leorio finally said, already moving to stand before the other without realizing it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

He meant it.

 

“I’m relieved to hear it,” Kurapika smiled at him, warm and sweet. Leorio wanted nothing more than to keep that smile forever, tuck it away in his heart as his alone. He really was a sap. “Meeting somewhere was only a diversion, I merely wish to spend time with you.”

 

This was dangerous. Leorio was playing with fire and he _knew_ that. He should send Kurapika away, as out of character and shocking as it would be, he should send him away so he would not need to see what was going to unfold.

 

He was selfish.

 

He _was_ glad Kurapika was here. Even if simply seeing him caused the weight to grow stronger, pressure bubbling with the threat to burst at any moment. The flower was blooming because of the one standing before him, but Leorio couldn’t send him away.

 

“It’s late, have you eaten anything?” Leorio asked. He placed his coat and briefcase in the hall closet as he waited for Kurapika’s reply.

 

“No, I wanted to wait for you,” Kurapika answered. Leorio had to keep himself steady by the door for a moment before closing it.

 

“I may not be the best cook, but I can-“

 

“Oh, no,” Kurapika’s eyes widened a bit. His hand reached out to make Leorio pause, his gaze hesitant. “I . . . already took care of it.” There was something odd in the way Kurapika was behaving, he was usually so confident and sure of himself to the point that sometimes it really pissed Leorio off, but tonight was different. Leorio found it . . . endearing. His throat constricted.

 

“What?” Leorio asked, clearing his throat.

 

“I hope I’m not overstepping, I just thought that . . . well,” Kurapika motioned with his hand to follow. Leorio allowed himself to be led through his own home to the kitchen. The lights were slightly dimmed, and the table was set for two with dinner already prepared, and still pipping hot.

 

“How did you-” Leorio trailed off, his voice catching at another painful pulse of his throat.

 

“I called the hospital to asked when you left, and went from that,” Kurapika answered simply.

 

“Why’s it so dark?” Leorio asked, humming to himself realizing that his kitchen had adjustable lighting. He’d lived here how long, and he’d never used it. Kurapika’s eyes looked surprised, before he closed them and exhaled deeply through his nose, his eyebrow twitched. He took a moment before he spoke up.

 

“You are forced to be around florescent lighting all day. It may be best to allow your eyes a break,” Kurapika spoke, but didn’t look at him.

 

“I’d rather be able to see you,” Leorio replied before he could stop himself. He felt his face flare while he turned towards the table. “Anyway, thank you for cooking. We should eat while it’s still hot.” Kurapika nodded, that smile returning to his face while they sat and began eating.

 

Leorio was having a bit of a hard time. Everything was great, but his throat just would not cooperate with him. He found himself talking to Kurapika more than enjoying the meal. He preferred the company to the food anyway, all things considered. After some time, the food was finished off and Leorio insisted that he would clean up, but Kurapika was as stubborn as always and insisted on helping. So there, side by side in his kitchen, the cleaned the dishes.

 

“It seems my surprise hit you a bit harder than I thought it would,” Kurapika said cheerfully.

 

“Laugh it up, but I’m happy you-“ the dish in his hand shattered on the floor. Leorio’s eyes widened, his heart gave a painful pulse in his chest, far greater than any he’d felt before. His hands, trembling and clammy, braced against the counter to keep himself upright.

 

“Leorio?” Kurapika placed a hand on his back, most likely feeling how his body was shaking. His voice was startled. Leorio felt another pulse, the sound now echoing in his ears. His lungs burned, the weight on his chest burst. Leorio coughed a river of blood and flower buds to the floor. “LEORIO!”

 

He slumped, Kurapika helping him to the floor as his throat sputtered and wheezed. Again, blood and blossoms, white mixed with red. Leorio’s eyes shifted to look at Kurapika, the same colors reflecting back at him in blind panic. Another violent ripple, wave after wave rushing through him. He could only imagine how horrific this looked.

 

Time’s up.

 

“T-this is,” Kurapika reached out with his own trembling fingers, cradling a bloom in the palm of his hand. “This is . . .” it was as if Kurapika couldn’t bring himself to say it. There were leaves with the buds, the flower rising from within Leorio, ready to take his life.

 

“Y-yeah,” Leorio croaked.

 

“We have to get you back to the hospital. This is . . .  how _long!_ ” Kurapika sounded angry, furious even. Leorio had braced himself for that.

 

“N-no, no point,” Leorio forced himself to speak.

 

“No point? Leorio, this is serious! You’re speaking nonsense!” Kurapika yelled at him.

 

Leorio hadn’t braced himself for tears.

 

Kurapika pulled him into his lap. Leorio’s slumped over and soon to be lifeless form easily moveable, he had no fight left in him. Leorio smiled a bit, dying in the arms of the man he loved didn’t sound too bad. When a tear hit his cheek however, concern for Kurapika clouded his thoughts. He . . . seeing Kurapika cry was not something Leorio even wanted.

 

“It’s . . . it’s okay,” Leorio tried his best to be comforting.

 

“How can you say that!?” Kurapika glared down at him, his bottom lip catching in his teeth at a weak attempt to hold back a sob. “How can you-“

 

“Was always bound to happen,” Leorio tried again.

 

“You idiot! You’re a doctor! You know what this means! Please, Leorio, please! Don’t . . . don’t make me watch you die like this!” Kurapika whispered through his cries, those beautiful eyes looking at Leorio in a way he would always remember, even in death.

 

They really were one of the most beautiful things to behold.

 

“Why didn’t you just get the surgery?” Kurapika asked in a broken voice. Leorio chuckled, the sound hollow and labored from how much of a struggle it was now to simply gasp in breath. So, this was what dying was like?

 

“I would r-rather die like this, then get rid of these precious feelings,” Leorio smiled, soft and as warmly as his cold body would allow him.

 

“They don’t deserve you! They aren’t worthy of you!” Kurapika hunched forward, tears still falling but he drew Leorio closer.

 

“I’d have to dis-disagree with you there,” Leorio slowly reached up to cup Kurapika’s cheek, brushing away a few tears with his thumb. “I think you’re worthy of them.” Kurapika’s entire form tensed in stillness. Leorio chuckled, leaving the lightest peck against the corner of Kurapika’s lips. One last selfish act. Leorio pulled away, the sharp jap in his heart alerting him.

 

Not bad for his last words, if he said so himself.

 

They tell stories of what it’s like to have a flower bloom. Some say that it is the most painful experience of one’s life. It isn’t only to die from unrequited love, but knowing that something has bloomed and left behind those feelings, giving a lasting impression of devotion. Leorio could understand the painful part, everything up to this moment hurt like hell, but this . . . was calming. He suddenly felt warm, and the weight on his chest was lifted for this first time in a long while. Leorio couldn’t recall the last moment he had felt so free, the gaze of Kurapika’s beautiful eyes being the last he would ever see. The world faded, he had said all he needed to say, and he was at peace.

 

____________________________

 

The kitchen was silent.

 

Even as tears streamed down his face, his wailing and misery long passed, he still sat on the cold tiled floor. Blood and flowers scatter around them on the floor, but Kurapika paid them no mind. They were background to the final flower. Leorio’s lifeless body was still pressed against him, the painfully elegant Gardenia flower bloomed softly against the darkness, faintly glowing. There was no trace of blood, there never was on the final flower. It was lovely . . . and it was meant for him.

 

Kurapika never knew what it would feel like to have one’s flower wilt. There were many tales, all seeming to be fairytales from their happy endings. Many had said it was a relief, a breath of fresh air once their love returned their affection. What a foolish lie. Kurapika felt nothing but emptiness, the flower representing his own unspoken feelings withered and died, just the same as the man he loved in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
